Remember
by Supergeek-110
Summary: After they've left they old railway, do Stuart and Falcon still remember Duke? Does Duke still remember them? (leave a review and tell me what you think)
1. Dark

Duke sat in the dark, a green tarp draped over him. It was quiet and still, and if you were there you wouldn't have known if it was day or night. Suddenly, Duke heard the rusty old door that had been closed so long ago slowly, ever so slowly, begin to creak open. Small beams of moonlight spilled in from the outside and the cool night air flooded over him.

Two very familiar silhouettes stood before him, letting off steam.

"We came back, Grandpuff!" Stuart said gleefully.

"We promised we would." Falcon said.

"We always knew we'd come back for you again."

"You didn't think we'd forgotten you, did you?"

Duke was overjoyed, and a flood of emotions took over him. He rushed over to meet them, to ask them where they'd been, and to thank them for being so brave when he wasn't with them. But they were no longer there. Nothing was there anymore.

Duke opened his eyes, slowly. Darkness all around him. The rusted door was still shut as tight as could be, and there were no sounds to be heard.

A dream.

It had all been a cruel, teasing dream from the taunting hag that was reality. Stuart and Falcon were gone. They'd been gone for weeks. They'd been gone for months, years maybe! Duke didn't know how long, he'd stopped keeping track of time, usually resorting to sleeping.

You don't feel sad when you're asleep. You don't feel spiteful, or bitter, or lonely, or forgotten. Sleeping was Duke's way out of this lonely, dark reality that he was in. But it seemed that old Evil Mistress had snuck into his sleep again and made him feel a joy only to snatch it away from him by waking him up and showing him just how alone he was. Duke began remembering everything he could about the two little engines. Determined to remember, determined to never forget.

"_Never mind, Grandpuff. We're only young ones after all,_"

_Are you even young anymore? _Duke thought. _Or have you grown up and gone off without me while you did?_

"_Fusspot! Fusspot! Fuddy-duddy, fuddy-duddy, fuddy-duddy!_"

_Still up to mischief Falcon? I hope you don't derail on a mountain-side again. _Duke thought. Without warning, tears sprung to Duke's eyes, but he dared not cry them. Now was not the time for sadness.

"_Fiddlesticks!_"

_Oh, Stuart, Stuart, Stuart. _Duke thought, chuckling a bit. But the tears still remained in his eyes, and though he was laughing, the heartache still remained.

After holding it back for so long, Duke finally let a few tears fall, the memories becoming too much for him to handle all at once. The memories flooded his vision and caused a tightness in his boiler. How he longed just to see them again, just one last time. Duke forced himself to calm down. Sleep. That's what he needed. He didn't cry when he was asleep, and hopefully, the memories wouldn't come back again while he was sleeping.

Duke sighed and closed his eyes.

They'd come back. They'd promised they would.


	2. Memories

Meanwhile, on the Skarloey Railway, it was far too late to be awake. Peter Sam was sleeping peacefully, dreaming away, when suddenly, his dream was interrupted.

_"__Grandpuff! Grandpuff?"_

Peter Sam's face tightened, and he looked bothered in his sleep.

_"__Grandpuff, where are you?"_

_It was his own voice, echoing and bouncing in the open air. The sounds of his pistons firing away and steam blasting from his funnel filled the air. The place looked very, very familiar. It was his old railway, but now, it looked quite different. The rails beneath him groaned and creaked in agitation at the weight they were being forced to carry for the first time in ages. His whistle blasted, and the sound warped and bounced all around._

_"__Grandpuff! I came back! I promised you I would, I'm back!"_

_He came to a stop, steam hissing and billowing from his cylinders. It was eerily quiet, with only the sounds of crickets in the grass and wind in the trees. The moon's ghastly glow lit up the desolate railway, causing shadows to dance and sway._

_"__Are you there?"_

_He had whispered, no reply coming but his own echo, growing fainter and fainter. He bit his lip and puffed towards the old shed that they'd shut Duke in so long ago. The door's hinges were rusted and brittle, and the door's paint was peeling off, exposing the rotting brown wood underneath that striped the door like scars. He puffed up to the door, pushing on it as hard as he could. The hinges protested, screaming in agony as their rusty parts were being forced to move and grind against each other. Finally, they gave way, and the door flew open with a deafening groan. _

_It was dark inside the old shed, but stranger yet, it was empty._

_"__D-D-Duke?"_

_He stammered, looking for the engine that wasn't there. The air suddenly went cold._

_"__Duke! Where are you? I came back! Please!"_

Peter Sam awoke with a jerk and a gasp. He panted as he gazed around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness and making out the silhouettes of the other engines in the pale moonlight. Peter Sam gulped and breathed heavily, his wheels still shuddering a bit from his fright.

He took a deep breath, "You're fine, you're fine, you're fine," He whispered to himself, though a part of him felt as though he were lying. "It was just a dream. That's all. Just a silly dream, nothing to get worked up over. Peter Sam was beginning to calm down, and the knot in his pipes seemed to have gone away. Peter Sam knew it was far too late to be up, and that he needed to go back to sleep. He closed his eyes, and counted sheep, but Peter Sam was restless now, and couldn't seem to fall asleep no matter how hard he tried. Every time he did try, that dream would whisper again in the back of his smokebox.

_"__I came back!"_

It made Peter Sam shudder a bit, and he knew that this was going to be a very long night for him. He puffed forwards and out of his shed, feeling that he needed some fresh air. He stared up at the stars with a sigh, hoping they would make him feel tired. But they made him feel much, much differently. As he stared, a feeling of melancholy filled him. As he was thinking of why that could be, a memory randomly resurfaced.

_"__Duke," Stuart whispered. "Duke!"_

_Duke grunted and opened his eyes._

_"__What do you want Stuart? It's almost midnight." Duke yawned._

_"__I know. I can't fall asleep."_

_"__Try counting sheep."_

_"__I already did! Nothing's working. I'm just not tired."_

_Duke thought for a moment._

_"__I think I have an idea for you," Duke said. He looked up into the night sky. "Whenever I want to fall asleep, I just gaze up at the stars and see how many of them I can name."_

_Stuart was a bit confused, but looked up as well._

_"__Those three stars in a row are Orion's belt," Duke said. "And the whole thing is Orion the Hunter, can you see it?"_

_Stuart squinted._

_ "__Oh, yes!" He gasped. "I do! I do!"_

_"__And that backwards question-mark one?"_

_"__Yes, that one over there?"_

_ "__That's Leo, the lion."_

_ "__I see," Stuart whispered. "How about the spoon shaped ones?"_

_ "__The big and little dipper. At the end of the bigger one, see that one very bright star?"  
"Yes?"  
"That's the North star. That's how lost travelers find their way home."_

_ "__Oh my," Stuart said in amazement. He let out a yawn. "Stars are very interesting."_

_ "__They are. Aren't they Stuart?" No reply came. "Stuart?" _

_Duke looked over. Stuart's eyes were closed, and he had fallen fast asleep._

Peter Sam felt a wave of sadness wash over him as he looked up at the stars. His boiler suddenly began to grow tight again, feeling as though it was twisting itself into many knots. Hot tears sprung to the corners of his eyes. In his attempt to stop himself from crying, Peter Sam let out a slight whimper, trying to push his feelings down deep where he could not find them. But it was a fruitless effort, and he felt a tear slide down his face and drip onto his buffer beam regardless.

More memories flooded Peter Sam's mind and he could recall every one of them. He remembered every track, every stone, every nook and cranny, and every sight and sound of his old railway in stunning detail. He felt even more grieved, knowing that he would never see his old railway the way it used to be ever again. And Duke, poor old Duke, Peter Sam knew he'd never see the splendid old engine ever again.

Peter Sam cried for the death of his memories, and he cried for the death of his past.


	3. I miss him, Falcon!

Sir Handel had been sleeping deeply, and dreaming well when something had awakened him. He opened his bleary eyes and blinked a few times, allowing them to adjust to the darkness. He yawned, and wondered what had woke him up. That's when he heard it. Sniveling and hiccupping coming from outside the shed. It was Peter Sam. Sir Handel slowly rolled forward.

"Peter Sam?" Sir Handel whispered, pulling up next to his brother. The night air was cold, and the breeze made it even colder. "Are you crying?"

Peter Sam blushed, and looked away to the ground, tears still staining his face.

"M…Maybe," Peter Sam whimpered, clearly trying to stop crying and calm down. He gulped and refused to look Sir Handel in the eye.

"What's wrong? What's the matter? It's almost midnight, what are you crying about?" Sir Handel asked. Peter Sam's eyes watered strongly, and he gave a shuddering gasp.

"Oh, Falcon!" He wailed. "I miss him!" Peter Sam burst into sobs.

Peter Sam only used Sir Handel's old name when he was incredibly distressed. Sir Handel didn't need any more context. Hearing Peter Sam use his own name was enough for Sir Handel to know exactly who Peter Sam longed to see. Duke. How long had it been since they'd left him? Sir Handel didn't remember. Sir Handel had tried ever so desperately at first to forget about the day they had to leave their old railway, as it had been one of the saddest in his life.

Though he regretted it now, he'd at first been overjoyed at the thought of not remembering the date of the departure day. But now, he wished-No, he _longed _to remember. Not that he'd forgotten everything. No matter how he tried, he knew that forgetting completely could never happen. He remembered exactly what it had looked like. Exactly what he saw as he said goodbye for the very last time.

_"__Falcon, F-Falcon, come on," Stuart's voice came, cracking ever so slightly. The crack that appears in your voice when you're about to cry. "We've…We've gotta get ready to go."_

_Falcon didn't want to open his eyes. Not that he was asleep. He'd been up for hours. He couldn't stay asleep for more than a few minutes at a time. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep. He didn't want this day to happen. He clung to his childish hope that if he pretended the day wasn't happening, it would go away._

_But Falcon knew that it wouldn't. It was leaving day. They were supposed to have everything ready and leave by ten o' clock that morning. It was already eight. He let out a sigh and slowly, slowly opened his eyes. Stuart sat in front of him on the rails, misty eyed and upset._

_"__Do we _have_ to go?" Falcon said, he noticed that his voice was growing the same crack as Stuart's._

_"__Y-You know we-we have to." Stuart trembled. "C-Come on, l-let's get ready to go."_

_That was the difference between the two brothers. Stuart wanted to leave as quickly as possible, to take the pain head on and get it over with as quick as he could. But Falcon didn't want to leave. Not one bit. He wanted to chain himself to the rails and wail and scream until he was allowed to stay and everything was alright again. He wanted so stubbornly to stay exactly where he was, to lock himself in his shed and refuse to leave._

_But he knew he couldn't. This day had been coming for weeks. Falcon had been _dreading _it for weeks. Falcon sniveled a bit and tried not to look upset._

_"__I'm. Not. Going." He said, trying to sound determined, but just sounding broken instead. "You-You can't make me. I'm staying. I won't leave. I won't!" He said, his voice starting to shake and hot tears forming in the corners of his eyes._

_Stuart whimpered, "You have to leave. We both do. You know that." Falcon was breathing heavily as if he'd just pulled the longest train of his life._

_"__No! I don't care! I'm not just going to leave!" Falcon said, his voice flaring up with emotion as he fought ferociously not to cry. "I can't! I can't! I can't! I'm not just going to abandon Duke! I don't care how much you ask me to do it, I can't do that!" He shouted. His outburst was the breaking point. Before he could shift his sadness to anger once more, he dissolved into gasping, wheezing sobs that racked his frame. At the sight of his brother so upset, Stuart began to weep as well._

_"__I can't…" Falcon whispered._

Sir Handel felt his own eyes watering now. He looked to Peter Sam, which turned out to be a mistake. The sight of his younger brother with tears spilling onto his buffer beam and dripping off onto the rails below was too much for Sir Handel to take, and he broke. As he blinked, two hot tears ran down his own face. Sir Handel hiccupped and bit his lip, attempting to silence himself. He tried his best to look stoic despite the fact that on the inside he wanted to wail like a baby.

"I-I'm sorry," Peter Sam whimpered. "I d-didn't mean to make you upset t-too,"

"It's not—" Sir Handel gulped at the sound of how shaky his voice was. "It's not your fault, I miss him too."

"We promised we'd go back, and we didn't." Peter Sam said, his voice going high and tight as he spoke. "We didn't. We broke our promise." Peter Sam cried, looking at Sir Handel with true loss in his eyes.

Sir Handel didn't know what too say, and didn't want to say anything regardless.

"He hates us now…doesn't he?" Peter Sam said, choking around a sob. Sir Handel nearly let out a sob himself, but forced himself not to.

"N-No," Sir Handel said. "Duke could never hate us. Never. Duke didn't have any hate. Duke _doesn't_ have any hate." Sir Handel corrected himself.

Peter Sam was silent for a moment, and the only noise was the breeze rattling the tree branches gently.

"Do you think that Duke even still remembers us?" Peter Sam asked.

Sir Handel stared up at the night sky, white stars glowing in the inky black.

"I don't think he does," Said Sir Handel. "I _know_ he does."


End file.
